


I'm the only one

by Ivrigasked



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, POV Katsuki Yuuri, Pining, Wingman Phichit Chulanont
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 14:39:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18593326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivrigasked/pseuds/Ivrigasked
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov had been skating against each other for years and formed a casual friendship. But when Phichit tries to pressure Yuuri to participate in the normal, post-competition skater hookups, could Yuuri be in trouble?





	I'm the only one

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> So nice to see you all again.  
> I seriously can never stay away from writing about our boys, I just love them so much. 
> 
> Title (and story of the fic itself) is inspired by the song "The King" by Conan Gray. I've seriously had it on repeat all day and well into beginning this fic. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

6 months ago:

 

“Excited to be back?” Celestino asks Yuuri and Phichit as they follow him into the training rink for Skate America.

“Always,” Phichit sighs, shrugging gently and frowning at his best friend. Yuuri nods at him, frowning in return.

“Go get changed, warm ups start in ten minutes.” Celestino says, dismissing them and walking away.

“So, is this finally going to be the year you hook up with a fellow skater?” Phichit laughs, nudging Yuuri roughly in the ribs.

“No, Phichit. You know that I don’t get involved with all that messy drama.” Yuuri replies, shucking off his sneakers when they enter the locker room.

“But I’ve heard that it’s fun. Don’t you want to participate rather than sitting in our hotel room eating broccoli and watching the bachelor?”

“Eating broccoli and watching the bachelor doesn’t end up in me contracting an STI and an onslaught of social media embarrassment.”

“Well, you got me there.”

“What about you? Are you planning on sleeping with someone this year?”

“Yuuri, I’m like Hermes, alright? Just the messenger but never the hero.”

“Uh huh,”

“What are you two talking about?” JJ asks loudly as he enters the room behind them.

“Oh, JJ.” Phichit smiles weakly. “We thought you’d be assigned to Skate Canada.”

“I thought so too, but what a pleasant surprise to see a couple of my favorite Americans!”

“Oh yes, certainly a surprise.” Phichit grimaces, slipping a athletic t-shirt over his head.

“How’s Isabella?” Yuuri asks politely.

“Oh, just wonderful. Marriage suits us perfectly.”

“Is she with you?” Phichit asks, brightening. Phichit and Isabella hit it off a couple of years ago at Worlds, and since then they hang out at any available opportunity. Phichit loves having someone as involved in the skater drama as him.

“Of course.” JJ laughs. “She’s always with me. Come say hello when you guys are done, okay?” JJ smiles before leaving, waving gently as the door shuts behind him.

“I don’t know why you don’t like JJ,” Yuuri says. “He’s always really nice to you.”

“There’s a difference between real nice and fake nice, and JJ is definitely not real nice. But you know I just love his wife, so I put up with him.” Phichit laughs before throwing his bag over his shoulder and making to leave. Yuuri follows suit and they exit the locker room together and head back into the now crowded hallway.

Skaters from all over are gathered around greeting each other, most of them old friends that haven’t seen each other since previous Grand Prix competitions.

From across the room, a flurry of silver hair catches Yuuri’s eye, and shortly after, blue eyes meet brown.

Viktor Nikiforov waves at them from where he stands next to his coach and the Russian Tiger Yuri Plisetsky, clearly not listening to anything either of them are saying. Yuuri waves back, smiling brightly, and receives a nasty jab to his shoulder blade.

“What about Viktor?” Phichit asks quietly.

“What _about_ Viktor?” Yuuri asks, turning sharply to his best friend. “We’re friends.”

“You know he’d sleep with you if you did so much as shook his hand.”

“No, that’s not true and we both know it. I bet Viktor doesn't even consider me an option. Plus, you know he’d sleep with anyone if they so much as shook his hand.”

“Viktor Nikiforov, notorious playboy.” Phichit sighs and turns his attention back to the heinously attractive Russian skater. “Hell, I’d sleep with him it I didn’t know that it would drive you absolutely mad.”

“Excuse me?” Yuuri blanches. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I know you have a crush on him.” Phichit whispers.

“Do not.” Yuuri quips.

“Do too.” Phichit replies, a laugh bubbling up behind the words.

“Hey,” a smooth voice suddenly purrs from behind them and Yuuri winces. He turns slowly to see none other than Viktor Nikiforov standing three paces away from him, smiling his usual cool smile.

“Uh, hey,” Yuuri replies, a slight pink dusting his cheeks and causing Phichit to have to hide the laugh behind his hand.

“You two look guilty. Up to something?”

“Aren’t we always?” Phichit smirks, regaining his calm demeanor.

“How’d summer treat you?” Yuuri asks, changing the subject.

“Oh, it was great. Went to the islands with Chris and a few of his other, non-skater friends and drank out of coconuts and lounged on the beach. All very exotic.” Viktor answers smoothly.

“Oh, cool, yeah,” Yuuri frowned, forcing himself not to imagine the tan Viktor must have under his team Russia jacket.

“What about you guys?” Viktor asks brightly.

“Mostly video games, actually. I think we went to the lake once?” Yuuri replies, turning to Phichit and begging for help with his eyes.

“Next year you could at least invite us to the islands with you, Viktor. So rude.” Phichit jokes, saving Yuuri from further embarrassment.

“Oh, sincerest apologies.” Viktor laughs. “The invite must have gotten lost in the mail.”

“Sure, sure, Nikiforov.” Phichit laughs and waves a hand in the air.

“Well, I gotta get changed.” Viktor frowns when his name is shouted from across the room. “See you guys on the ice?” Viktor nods and smiles again as he walks away from them.

“God, he’s so hot.” Phichit sighs.

“And so nice.” Yuuri replies.

“Imagine how tan he is.”

“Actively trying not to, thank you.”

“I bet he fucks as good as he looks like he does.”

“Phichit,” Yuuri cringes. “Why’re you like this?”

“You know what? It’s probably better.”

“If you’re so concerned, why don’t you find out?”

“Messenger, remember? Why don’t _you_ find out? You know you want to.”

“I’m sure I could save the time and ask half the people here.”

“Probably.” Phichit shrugs and pulls Yuuri toward the ice.

 

Later that week when the competition is over and medals had been awarded, the teams from all across the world go out drinking. It’s tradition. And it’s also when the skaters usually pair off for the night, and then everyone else sees it on social media in the morning as a walk of shame. Then it repeats, at every other competition throughout the season. Yuuri has never participated, usually just having a single cocktail, chatting with some friends, and calling it an early night. This year, Phichit has other plans.

“Why don’t we get black out?” Phichit asks Yuuri nonchalantly while they sit at their table waiting for their dinner and their first drink to arrive.

“Um? What?” Yuuri shakes his head. “When have we ever done that? And why would we start now, at literally one of the riskiest places to pull a stunt like that?”

“I’m just trying to get you laid, Yuuri!” Phichit answers, leaning back against the cushioned chair and crossing his arms. “I’m trying to be a good wingman.”

“Then be at wingman at home.” Yuuri sighs. “Not when we’re surrounded by a large amount of people I would almost certainly regret sleeping with, and all of whom would almost definitely be embarrassed about waking up next to me.”

“Yuuri, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re a catch! Why can’t you see that?”

“Thanks, Phichit. But seriously, not here.”

“Not even for Viktor Nikiforov?” Phichit smirks, throwing his chin in the direction of the door. Yuuri turns to see Viktor walk into the bar, followed shortly by Yuri Plisetsky, Christophe Giacometti, and Otabek Altin.

“Definitely not for him.” Yuuri answers, turning back to Phichit.

“Why not?” Phichit whines. “You know it would be fun.”

“Fun? Fun to have sex with skating’s number one playboy, and then probably get ghosted? No thanks, Phi. I value myself more than that.”

Phichit just stares at Yuuri for a minute, analyzing him, before he laughs incredulously.

“What?” Yuuri frowns.

“You’re scared.” Phichit says in disbelief.

“Of?”

“Getting your feelings hurt.” Phichit answers. “You actually have a crush on him.”

“Everybody with eyes has a crush on him.”

“I don’t.” Phichit says.

“You’re immune to his charms somehow, so you don’t count.”

“Yuuri, I’ll stop pushing it if you really want me to, but why won’t you just give it a chance? I was serious about Viktor taking up the offer to get a piece of your fine ass.”

“Phichit, oh my god.” Yuuri sighs and buries his head in his hands. “It’s not going to happen.”

“Okay, okay. But he’s coming this way, by the way.”

“What?” Yuuri’s head shoots up and he turns just in time to see Viktor approach their table.

“Hi guys,” Viktor greets politely, smiling the same cool, practiced smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I was finally able to convince Yuuri to go out for once.” Phichit laughs and Yuuri shoots daggers with his eyes toward his friend.

“Well, it’s nice to see you out then.” Viktor laughs. “We’re getting a booth, do you two want to join us? Yuuri?” Viktor asks, his accent twirling delicately on the syllables of Yuuri’s name as he looks at him, his attention completely directed at him. It almost makes Yuuri fall out of his chair. Has Viktor ever said his name before?

“Ah, sure!” Yuuri nods, glancing to Phichit, who grins knowingly.

“Great, settle up and meet us over there, yes?” Viktor says, pointing to a large table in the back of the room.

“Sure, be there shortly.” Phichit nods and Viktor smiles again before walking back toward his table.

“Holy shit.” Yuuri whispers as they watch him leave.

“Yuuri,” Phichit says quietly.

“I know.”

“No, Yuuri, he practically _purred_ your name.” Phichit laughs.

“What? No he didn’t.” Yuuri replies, snapping out of the Viktor-induced daze.

“I think he actually might be into you. That was some strong eye contact.”

“Phichit you can’t say something like that when we’re about to go _join his table_.”

“Why not? I know you know how to flirt, Yuuri. I’ve seen it in action. And look, I’m not saying you have to sleep with him, but maybe flirt a little, get some free drinks and maybe a quick handjob out of it and call it a day. No harm, no foul.”

“Phichit?”

“Yeah?”

“I hate you.”  

“You’re the one that agreed to join his table.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah, shall we?” Phichit smirks as he signs his check and hops out of his seat. Yuuri sighs heavily as they walk slowly over to the nearly full booth, and Viktor slides over to make room for them.

“Hey, everyone!” Phichit greets, and Chris replies brightly while Otabek just nods and Yuri grunts loudly at them. Yuuri slides into the booth next to Viktor, and Phichit slides in after him. He’s thigh to thigh with Viktor Nikiforov, this person he’s been skating with since they were kids, and his palms have never been sweatier.

“What are you drinking?” Chris asks, and Yuuri and Phichit both tell him their orders just in time for the waitress to arrive. After they’ve all ordered, they fall into casual, normal conversation. Yuuri tries to ignore the consistent bump of his knee against Viktor’s, and the frequent, gentle brush of Viktor’s fingers on various parts of his arms, shoulders, and legs. Is Viktor naturally a touchy person or was Phichit actually right?

 

A few drinks and an unknown number a shots later, everyone has settled into their individual conversations. Yuri and Otabek are chatting quietly but animatedly, Christophe had somehow ended up next to Phichit and was talking his ear off about something scandalous, and Viktor, had set his sights on Yuuri.

“So tell me, Yuuri,” Viktor purrs, the alcohol clearly present in his veins. His gaze was dark, but unwavering, and Yuuri tried but failed miserably to convince himself that the blush on his own cheeks was from the liquor rather than Viktor’s undivided attention. “Why don’t you ever attend the banquets?”

“Wearing a suit isn’t my thing.” Yuuri responds, trying to maintain his cool and not let Viktor overwhelm him.

“Why not? You have a nice frame, I’m sure you’d look ravishing.”

“Oh uh, thank you?” Yuuri laughs nervously.

“You don’t take compliments very well.” Viktor frowns, narrowing his eyes calculatingly.

“I don’t get them very often.” Yuuri admits.

“What? Why not?” Viktor gapes, his eyes blowing wide.

“I don’t know?” Yuuri shrugs and knits his hands together in his lap.

“Yuuri, you’re very attractive. I find it bizarre and unfortunate that no one is constantly informing you of that.”

“Oh, Viktor,” Yuuri blushes. “No, no. If anyone deserves to be showered with compliments, its you.”

“Yuuri, darling, that’s very sweet. Sadly, I’m showered with compliments so often it seems they’ve lost their charm.”

“Hmm. Humble brag?” Yuuri teases, feeling the alcohol finally boost his confidence.

The remark nearly makes Viktor spit out his drink, but he’s able to swallow it before laughing loudly.

“Humble brag? You wound me, Yuuri. Here I was thinking you were timid.”

“I warm up.” Yuuri shrugs.

“I can see that. I’m excited to find out what else you’ve been hiding.” Viktor smiles, but it’s a different, wide smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Well that’s new,” Yuuri whispers, gently reaching up to touch Viktor’s cheek. Viktor’s eyes go wide again, but this time it’s a different kind of surprise. His pupils are dark, and his cheeks are rosy under Yuuri’s thumb.

“What is?” Viktor asks quietly.

“That kind of smile.” Yuuri answers. “I’ve never seen this one.”

“Ah,” Viktor laughs sadly, looking down. “Not a lot of people do.”

“It’s pretty.”

“Thank you, Yuuri.” Viktor says quietly, reaching up to remove Yuuri’s hand from his face and instead brings it to his lips. He kisses Yuuri’s knuckles one by one, and Yuuri watches, finding it hard to believe that any of this is happening in the first place.

“Would you do me the honor of coming back to my room with me?” Viktor asks after a moment, much to Yuuri’s surprise. Was it really heading in that direction?

“What? Me?”

“Yes, you. Who else?” Viktor laughs, running his thumbs over the back of Yuuri’s hand.

“Ah, sure!” Yuuri yelps. “I mean--yes. Yes, I’ll go with you.” Yuuri stutters, blushing profusely.

“Great, then we don’t have to worry about our friends eavesdropping on us,” Viktor says loudly, causing Chris and Phichit to giggle, clearly having been caught.

“All in good fun, Viktor.”

“Let us out.” Viktor laughs as he glares at his friend, and follows Yuuri out of the booth.

“Us?” Phichit asks, glancing at Yuuri. Yuuri blushes and avoids Phichit’s gaze.

“If you need us, we’ll be in my room.”

“Viktor?” Chris asks, his eyes wide. Viktor ignores him and pulls Yuuri from the bar by the hand, which is warm, firm, and grounding in his own.

Once outside, the cold air of Washington sets into his bones as they walk hand in hand back to their hotel. They don’t speak, but they almost don’t need to, so Yuuri takes the opportunity to let the cold air sober him up before he makes a decision he might regret.

 

They arrive quickly, and Viktor leads Yuuri through the lobby to the elevators.

“Your nose is red.” Viktor says as they wait, breaking the calm silence.

“It’s cold outside.” Yuuri replies, confused.

“I mean--it’s cute.” Viktor laughs. “You’re cute.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri blushes again, positive that now his cheeks match his nose.

“You better get used to it because I’m not going to stop.” Viktor laughs, and the corners of his eyes crinkle again but Yuuri chooses not to comment on it.

“We’ll see how well I do then.” Yuuri replies, grinning.

The elevator dings, and they enter it followed by a couple of other skaters they aren’t very familiar with and they all make small conversation until they reach their respective floors. Once they reach the 10th floor, Viktor pulls out his key card and leads Yuuri down the quiet hallway.

“I usually ask Yakov to put me up an extra floor or two so I can’t hear everyone partying on the last night of competition.”

“That’s really smart, actually. You have your own room?” Yuuri asks.

“Yes, don’t you?”

“No, Phichit and I always share. Saves money.” Yuuri shrugs and enters the room as Viktor holds the door open for him.

“That makes sense.” Viktor answers and watches Yuuri as he looks around the room. “Yuuri, can I ask you something?” He asks quietly.

“You just did,” Yuuri jokes, turning his head back to look at Viktor, who’s now standing timidly by the door.

“Alright, all jokes aside, I have a question.” Viktor laughs.

“Okay, sure.” Yuuri says, turning fully and sitting in one of the chairs by the window. Viktor walks slowly over to him and sits in the other, facing him with their knees touching.

“You don’t usually partake in the usual, ah...post-competition activities.” Viktor says, and Yuuri knows where this is headed.

“No I don’t, is that the question?” Yuuri asks, his tone defensive.

“Yuuri I--” Viktor stutters.

“Did you bring me here to try to hook up with me?” Yuuri asks.

“No, not exactly.” Viktor answers, his eyes narrowing.

“If not that then why?” Yuuri asks sharply.

“Because I was enjoying our conversation. I didn’t bring you here to sleep with you, unless that’s why you agreed. I simply did so because I was enjoying your company and was looking forward to seeing where the night took us. Now I see that I have offended you, which was the opposite of my intention.”

“So you didn’t bring me here to have sex with me?”

“I mean Yuuri don’t get me wrong, I find you attractive, but I do also enjoy just talking to you.” Viktor laughs. “I’m aware of the reputation I hold amongst the other skaters. Would you believe me if I told you I haven’t actually hooked up with anyone at a competition since I was 18?”

“Probably not.” Yuuri frowns.

“Well, it’s true. I find it more enjoyable now to spend the evening drinking with my friends and playing wingman before retiring to my own room to binge eat chocolate, drink wine, and watch bad movies.”

“I find that difficult to believe.” Yuuri laughs. The tension in his shoulders fades as he begins to realize that maybe Viktor is telling the truth.

“I’m sure you do.” Viktor’s eyes narrow again and he brings a hand up to his chin. “So, that poses the question then. Would you like to stay and see what happens, even if it’s just conversation, or would you like to leave? Either way, it’s your choice.”

“I’ll stay.” Yuuri says after a beat.

“Good.” Viktor smiles, his gaze darkening. “So, tell me why you don’t hook up with people at competitions.”

“I knew you were gonna ask me that!” Yuuri shouts, and then laughs into his hand.

“Yes, of course I was! I want to know why you’re the best kept secret in the skating community.”

“Oh, that’s hardly true.”

“It is true! Everyone has always wondered why no one’s snatched you up yet.” Viktor admits, causing Yuuri to stop and stare at him.

“What makes you think I’m not seeing someone back in Detroit?” Yuuri asks smoothly.

“Would you have come back to my room with me if you were?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. You’ll never know.”

“I’ll know if you tell me.” Viktor answers.

“I’m not just going to tell you everything, Viktor. It has to be fair.”

“Okay, then let’s play twenty questions.” Viktor suggests, grinning widely.

“Alright, that was your first question then.”

“So then answer it.” Viktor smiles and Yuuri sighs loudly, glaring at Viktor.

“Because I have too much self respect to sleep with someone I only see a few times a year, just to get shamed on social media and then probably ghosted.” Yuuri says, frowning. “My turn.”

“Do your worst.” Viktor smirks.

“What’s your favorite food?” Yuuri asks, blinking innocently.

“Starting off vanilla, are we?” Viktor says, narrowing his eyes at Yuuri again, leveling him with his gaze. “I love crepes. Actual, french crepes, not the sad American version.”

“Agreed. Your turn.” Yuuri says calmly.

“Favorite person to skate against?” Viktor asks.

“You.” Yuuri says without hesitation.

“Really?”

“It’s not your turn.” Yuuri scolds playfully.

“Damn it.”

“If you could travel anywhere right now, where would you go and who would you take?” Yuuri asks.

“Singapore. And I’d take you.” Viktor replies quickly.

“Really?” Yuuri blanches, surprised.

“Not your turn.” Viktor winks. “Are you seeing someone in Detroit?”

“No.” Yuuri replies, leaning back and watching Viktor carefully. “Are you?”

“No.” Viktor replies, his face expressionless. “Is there anyone at Skate America you would hypothetically let take you out?”

“Yes.” Yuuri says flatly, narrowing his eyes at Viktor. They stare quietly at each other for a few moments, before Yuuri smirks wickedly. “Have you at any point tonight thought about me naked?”

“At least half a dozen times.” Viktor responds without missing a beat.

Yuuri flushes, sitting up straight. “Wait, what?”

“If you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen, Yuuri.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri whines. “I was expecting that to catch you off guard.”

“There are not a lot of things that can catch me off guard, Yuuri. You’ll have to try harder.” Viktor grins.

“Alright. I’ll think of something. It’s your turn.”

“Have _you_ at any point tonight thought about _me_ naked?”

“A solid number. More if you also include this morning.” Yuuri replies. “When did you decide to bring me back to your room?”

“When I walked in and saw you in the bar. This morning?”

“When you said you’d spent the summer on an island. I wondered how tan you were.” Yuuri answers, feeling his cheeks heat again under Viktor’s darkening gaze.

“You thought about me naked before 8 am?” Viktor asked, his tone full of disbelief.

“You’re bad at remembering when it’s your turn.”  Yuuri grins, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “What was your first impression of me?”

“Oh, my answer is very telling.” Viktor laughs nervously.

“That’s the game, Viktor.”

“I thought you were beautiful. It took my breath away.” Viktor says, leaning forward, just inches away from Yuuri face. “Your first impression of me?”

“Playboy.” Yuuri answers, smirking again.

“Of course. Everyone thinks that. I suppose I can’t blame them.”

“Would you like to know my second impression?”

“Yes.”

“Smart, funny, caring. Beautiful eyes, like two small pools I could easily drown in.” Yuuri says just above a whisper, and hears Viktor’s sharp intake a breath.

“Yuuri,”

“Viktor,” Yuuri whispers and Viktor just stares at him, their faces only centimeters apart. Suddenly, Viktor closes the remaining distance, kissing Yuuri ever so gently, but the contact burns through Yuuri like a steel rod in his veins. He leans forward into the kiss, deepening it, and Viktor returns in equal fervor.

“I’m not going to press you, but I’d really like to move this to my bed.” Viktor whispers after breaking the contact for a split second. Yuuri nods and practically pulls Viktor up from his seat.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I don't know when the next chapter will be up, but I have plenty of other stuff on my authors page for you to check out while you wait (shameless self plug). 
> 
> With that being said, my semester is almost over, so I should have a ton of free time to write! I really like where my brain is going with this story, so I hope you stick around and run this course with me! :)
> 
> You know I looooooove comments and kudos, so let me know what you think! K thanks, bye!


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